And Then There Were None
by BurningSilence
Summary: There were six on the night of last and then there were none...save one. An interlude to my other story 'Vicissitudes'. Chronicles the 'Whodunit' contract, and of course there's more interaction with other members of the Dark Brotherhood.


**Title: **And Then There Were None

**Author:** BurningSilence

**Rating:** PG-13ish? Maybe PG-15

**Disclaimer: **Oh, don't I wish? My money troubles would be over if I owned the Elder Scrolls games. But alas, Bethesda beat me to it.

**Summary:** There were six on the night of last and then there were none…save one. Set it the same universe as 'Vicissitudes', and based off of the Dark Brotherhood quest 'Whodunit'. Five people think they're competing for treasure; unfortunately for them, one young Breton is set to set them straight on the matter.

**Author's Note:** I'm writing this in an effort to cheer myself up. I was planning on finishing the next chapter of 'Vicissitudes', (which has the tentative title 'Of Old and New Acquaintances'), but then I found out yesterday that my grandpa passed away, and I've been in a funk since then. So I thought I'd write about one of my favourite contracts in the Dark Brotherhood quest line. This is more or less an interlude for later on in my main storyline.

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* * *

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And Then There Were None

"You wanted to see me, sister?" Felicienne asked as she entered Ocheeva's chambers.

The Argonian woman smiled in a knowing way before asking, "Do you like parties?"

Felicienne was taken aback by the odd question, so much so she stuttered when she next spoke, "T-they're alright, I suppose. It's been awhile since I've had to dress up…_why?_"

"Because you've been invited to one," Ocheeva answered, simply. The young girl could only blink in confusion before the older woman continued. "Of course, you'll be killing all of the other guests."

"Oh!" Felicienne laughed, feeling a bit silly for not catching on sooner. She supposed she was just tired. And stressed out, after all; they're Speaker was here today. Lucien was watching everyone very carefully, almost like he was scouting out the Sanctuary. Everyone was on edge, especially Antoinetta Marie. 'She's probably hoping for advancement,' the dark haired girl thought.

"Do you feel like attending?" Ocheeva asked, eyebrows raised.

"Oh yes. Tell me more, please?" she asked, interest piqued.

"Wonderful," the mistress smiled. "You need to travel to Skingrad, to the large house know as Summitmist Manor. There, you will meet up with five very unlucky guests. If you want to receive your bonus for this contract, you must kill the guests secretly, one by one. If anyone sees you committing murder, your bonus is forfeit."

"Mmm, may I ask why they are all in the manor in the first place?" Felicienne asked, a little perplexed about this one detail.

"The guests believe there is a chest of gold hidden somewhere in the house, and have agreed to be locked inside until one of them finds it. In fact, the guests also believe the key to the manor is also inside the chest, and only by satisfying their greed will they be allowed to leave. Poor fools."

The girl nodded as Ocheeva continued, trying to get a feel for the situation.

"There is, of course, no chest of gold. The guests will find no key. After you're arrival, the doors will be locked behind you, as everyone expects. When all the guests lie dead, you will be allowed to leave. Now go, the 'party' is in two days time, which leaves you enough time to arrive in Skingrad and get yourself ready. When you arrive, see the doorman at the Summitmist Manor. He'll explain the rest, have fun," Ocheeva winked at her.

Felicienne left Ocheeva's chambers and heading towards the main living area and opened up her trunk and began rummaging through it. It'd been so long since she _had_ to dress up for anything, that she didn't even know where to begin. All of her courtier clothing was in New Sheoth, and everything else she owned here was either some sort of armour, or was mix-and-match.

She sat back on the floor and huffed in frustration.

"What's the matter with you?"

Felicienne looked up and saw both Telaendril and Antoinetta looking down at her, both with sly grins on their faces.

"What on earth are you doing down there?" Telaendril asked, trying to stifle a laugh.

"I have a contract that I need to dress nicely for…and I can't find anything to where!" she complained. "I can't imagine that showing up in my armour will help me remain inconspicuous."

"Hmm," Antoinetta hummed, "you're probably right. Didn't you receive the Deceiver's Finery as a bonus from your last contract?"

"Huh? Oh, is that what that package was?" Felicienne asked. She'd forgotten to open it after receiving her reward. She opened up her trunk again and dug through her other clothes and supplies until she reached a medium-sized paper-wrapped parcel. She tore open the paper and revealed the velvet dress that was wrapped inside. An enchanted dress, imagine that.

She held it up to inspect it closer and smiled, "Oh, it's so pretty. This is one of the nicest outfits I own, now." She giggled and ran behind the paper divider so she could try it on. She hurriedly stripped out of her armour, and slipped the burgundy and gold garment over her head.

She stepped out from behind the divider and asked her two female companions, "Well, what do you think?"

"You look wonderful!" Telaendril exclaimed, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet.

Meanwhile, Antoinetta looked like she'd swallowed something bitter before choking out, "It suits you."

Felicienne looked down, feeling hurt by Antoinetta's reaction. She'd come to think of the older woman as the big sister she'd never had. Someone to gossip with and someone she could come to with any stresses she had from her everyday life (while carefully omitting her affiliation with the Blades and Martin).

Had she upset her in some way?

She looked up again to see Telaendril shooting a glare at the blonde, and Felicienne bit her lip. Antoinetta seemed a bit uncomfortable, but didn't make any attempt to amend the situation.

The young girl took a deep breath and started to head to the door, "I'm just…going to see if there's anything else I need to do before I leave…and maybe one of you could give me an idea how to fix my hair?" she ended hopefully.

Both women nodded, but the Bosmer seemed much more enthusiastic than Antoinetta did. The blonde Breton had been acting very strange since Lucien Lachance decided to drop in on them. Felicienne figured she must have overheard something while their Speaker was in conference with Ocheeva, but didn't feel the need to share it with Felicienne…which was something she _always_ did.

As she entered the front room, the girl could feel her eyes stinging with tears. She stubbornly pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes. 'I will not cry, I will not cry, I will not cry!' she thought desperately. "She's just having a bad day…week. You're not a baby, there's no need to get worked up over it," she muttered to herself.

"Worked up over what, child?" asked a smooth voice.

Her eyes widened, and she flushed furiously; she hadn't thought to be overheard, and especially hadn't thought to be overheard by the Speaker himself.

"It's nothing, Speaker. I'm just having a bit of a bad day," she stated, her voice still a bit thick with suppressed tears.

"Are you disappointed in your new contract? I thought it would be something of interest to you. That's why I recommended it for you," he replied, brows furrowed in a serious expression.

"No, no it's not that. I'm happy with the contract!" she hastened to reassure him. It wouldn't do for the Speaker to feel like she was insulting him. Especially if he had _recommended_ a contract for you. "It's nothing…it's stupid. Don't worry yourself over it," she said. Then she tried to brighten up, "See? I've even picked out a dress that I can wear to the manor. What do you think?" She twirled, letting the dress flare out a bit.

"You look beautiful," he murmured.

"It is a very beautiful dress, isn't it?" she smiled, running her hands down her legs, smoothing out non-existent wrinkles in the material. Really, it was more of an excuse to touch the velvety material.

"Yes, the dress is beautiful, but I was referring to _you_," he spoke softly and in low tones. Her smile faltered as her blush returned full force, staining her pale cheeks a deep rose.

"T-thank you, Speaker," she stammered, feeling extremely embarrassed.

"You can call me Lucien," he said, smiling slightly.

"Yes, Sp—I mean, Lucien," she wasn't sure what to do right now. This situation was completely foreign to her. She tried to suppress her gasp as Lucien reached out and touched her cheek with the back of his gloved fingers, brushing them back towards her hair and lifting the long, black strands away from her face.

"You should wear your hair up, show off your face. You have a lovely face that makes people trust you; make sure that trust is to their detriment," he told her, his dark eyes oddly soft. His hand lingered until they both heard a sharp gasp. Felicienne turned her face away from Lucien's hand in time to see the back of Antoinetta's bright blonde head.

She looked down once again. "I think she's mad at me, but I don't know what I've done. I suppose it'll be Telaendril helping me with my hair," she bit her lip, this time, hard enough to draw blood. "I-I have to be going now," she mumbled, turning to head back into the living quarters. "I have a long trip ahead of me."

* * *

Two days later, she found herself outside of Summitmist Manor, dressed to the nines as it were. She'd taken their Speaker's advice and wore her hair bundled at the top of her head, in the court fashion that seemed so popular now among women with high breeding.

There, at the front door, was a large Nord who, upon seeing her smiled brightly and said,"So, the last guest finally arrives. I'll tell you what I told all the others. You go in, I lock the door. You don't come out 'til it's over." At her confirming nod, he continued, "Now I'll tell you what I didn't tell everyone else. We have the same Mother, you and I. And she wants you to have this. It's the key to the house. I guess someone else has already told you the other details. Kill all the guests then leave, right? Well, you'd better get in there. Time to mingle."

She guessed she didn't move fast enough for him because he said, in a slightly jovial tone, "Well, what are you waiting for? There's a party, and you're the guest of honour! All I get to do is lock the damn door. You get to have all the fun. Now go. Go! Socialize! Talk to those fine people, and then plunge your knife into their throats when they ain't lookin'!" he trailed off into amused laughter, which brightened Felicienne's spirits a bit. No use being down when there's work to be done. She should forget about Antoinetta being angry with her, or her Speaker acting…strange towards her. Besides, she might as well try to enjoy herself.

You know, before the whole killing-everyone-in-the-house business.

She smiled and let herself inside…

…and was immediately greeted in the foyer by an elderly Breton woman who came seemingly out of nowhere.

"Well, well, the sixth guest has finally arrived! It's about time. Do you know how long we've been waiting? Seems like an age!"

"I'm sorry, I got a bit held up on the way here, what with the weather and all," as she gestured towards the window at the rainstorm going on outside.

"Oh yes, believe me, I understand how traveling in the rain can be a problem." Matilde sympathized.

"I was wondering, do you have any idea who invited us here? It's been puzzling me since I received the summons," Felicienne queried.

"Not a clue, but whoever invited us here must at least know us, don't you think? In any even, we're all stuck here together, so we might as well get acquainted. The rest of us have already traded introductions. I'm Matilde Petit, then there's Nels the Naughty, Neville, Dovesi Dran, and Primo Antonius. Now who might you be? Please tell us a bit about yourself."

"Oh, my name is Selene Faustus*, and I'm an assassin sent to kill you all," she replied, with a slight grin.

"Hahahaha! Oh you're a funny one!" Matilde laughed delightedly. "I'm glad someone here has a sense of humour about all of this. It'll make things less tense around here."

As she walked through the foyer and up the stairs to what she presumed to be the dining area when she was clapped, harshly, on the back by a large Nord male. As she stumbled forward a bit, she felt his strong hand grip her arm to prevent her from falling.

"I'm sorry, miss. Sometimes I don't know my own strength," his boisterous voice stated, jovially. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, no, I'm fine," she assured him. "Don't worry about it. Are you Nels the Naughty, by any chance?"

"Haha! Yeah, that's me. Don't believe everything you here about me, though. I got drunk one time in a tavern, and acted a little…disorderly, and suddenly everyone calls me 'the Naughty'," the Nord chuckled. Being in such close proximity to the man, Felicienne could smell the ale on his breath.

Soon the both fell into easy conversation, exchanging histories, and Nels telling her _exactly_ what he thought of the other guests here. She also found out some interesting facts about the other people here. Some were quite mundane, such as Matilde being racist, or Primo being a pompous rich boy. However, it seemed as if Neville used to be a soldier in the Imperial Legion, she'd need to watch out for him. Although, Nels didn't seem to be very fond of the older Redguard. She may be able to exploit that to fit her own ends.

Whoever arranged for this contract must have quite the vengeful spirit; not only did they want all of the people in this house dead, but they wanted them _terrified_. Felicienne wondered what they could have done to deserve that.

Then she thought back to Rufio.

Her face hardened a bit, reminding herself that just because many of them seemed innocent, didn't mean they were. She was rapidly becoming very cynical in her time with the Brotherhood. It worried her, sometimes, that she could feel herself becoming more and more twisted the longer she stayed in service to Sithis.

Before she knew it, they were all sitting at the dining room table; eating, and in some cases, arguing with each other. Nels and Neville seemed to be constantly at each other's throats, what with Nels called Neville an Imperial pig, and Neville retaliating and calling Nels a dirty savage. Then there was Matilde constantly looking down her nose and Dovesi, a lovely Dunmer girl, roughly her age, who seemed quite smitten with Primo Antonius. And from the little glances he was sending her, it appeared to be mutual.

Felicienne, or rather, Selene sat back in her seat casually sipping her wine, while contemplating who to strike first.

As Neville rose from his seat with a great huff, and announced he was going to retire for the evening, Felicienne made her choice.

* * *

Killing the Redguard had been laughably easy; one quick slice to his throat, making sure to sever the windpipe, and it was a quick, silent death. No one was the wiser. However, since he was sharing a room with Nels the Naughty, the Nord discovered the body and speculation spread like wildfire. Primo and Matilde both thought it was Nels who did away with Neville, (and Matilde was taking his death particularly hard) while Dovesi seemed to not be as sure. She appeared to think that whoever invited everyone here was responsible, that this was all an elaborate set up.

She'd have to keep an eye on her.

As Felicienne walked up to Dovesi, (who was being 'comforted' by Primo), the Dunmer turned to her and said, "Oh, aren't you scared? I can't believe someone's been murdered! Here! Under our noses!"

"It's terrible! Do you think someone here is responsible?" Felicienne asked, in mock-terror.

"I'd hate to think that about any of the people here…"

"It has to be Nels! Didn't you hear how he and Neville were fighting at dinner? Not to mention the rest of the day. I'm surprised there wasn't any bloodshed before now," Primo cut in, looking furious.

"Do you really think it could have been him?" Felicienne whispered, anxiously.

"Of course. It's obvious he hated the man!" Primo insisted.

That was good, though. It means no one suspected her. She walked away from the 'couple' and wandered around for a bit. She noticed the door to the basement was slightly ajar, and she stepped inside. Only to find Nels sprawled on the floor, drinking himself into a stupor.

She rested a soft hand on the large man's shoulder and softly cooed at him, "What's the matter, Nels?"

"-hic- Everyone thin'sh I –hic- killed that damn sholgher. –hic-I may 'ave 'ated 'im…but I woulda never done 'at…" he bemoaned, clutching his bottle of ale. "Ev'rythin'sh been…sho…sho…_wrong_…shinsh my Olga died."

"It's okay, Nels. I don't think you killed Neville," the girl said sweetly, as she crouched over him. "I know you didn't."

"Really?" he looked up at her, hopeful.

"Really," she confirmed, smiling at him as she unsheathed her dagger. She brought him into a tight hug, telling him over and over that everything would be alright.

He never saw it coming.

* * *

Felicienne looked out at the sky through the window. It was almost light out, she'd need to finish up soon. The Imperial and old woman were the only ones left; she'd already dealt with the Dunmer. She admitted, she felt a bit sad about that one…Dovesi was the only one Felicienne had a hard time seeing as having the potential to have done something to warrant her terror and death.

Now all that remained was Primo and Matilde, and it looked as if things were about to boil over. Primo seemed convinced that Matilde and been responsible for most of the killings. He'd reasoned it by stating after finding out Nels killed Neville, who Matilde and seemed sweet one, Matilde went into a 'rage' and killed the Nord while he was too drunk to defend himself. Then, just out of spite, the old woman killed Dovesi in her sleep.

True, these weren't bad theories, it just wasn't what happened. But it appeared Primo gave any consideration that Felicienne was behind the murders.

"Are you all right?" came the young man's voice as he stepped up to her. Well, look who it is, the knight in shining armour, Felicienne. Come to make sure such a fragile and gentle girl such as me won't faint from fright.

"I'm fine," she replied in an appropriately trembling voice. "I'm just so scared…do you really think it's Matilde, Primo?"

He looked at her, face grave as he grasped her shoulders, "Yes, she's the only one who could have done it. I admit, I fear for your safety more than mine. After all, she brutally killed dear, sweet Dovesi…" here he closed his eyes in grief, "What's to stop her from killing you too? Neither one of you should have ever been exposed to this, I couldn't help Dovesi, but I'll be damned if I let that crazy old bat kill you, too!" he pledged in a harsh whisper.

Perhaps under different circumstances, Felicienne would have been moved by such an ardent proclamation, but she found herself unable to care. Maybe it was just the stress of the last few days, but all she wanted was to get back to the Cheydinhal Sanctuary and fall asleep. To pretend Antoinetta wasn't angry with her and that her strange encounter with the Speaker had just been a dream.

"Thank you," she whispered, as heartfelt as she could manage. He gave her a tight smile and nodded. Then, he set out in search of Matilde.

After a few moments, she heard Matilde cry out once, then fall silent, forever. It was surprisingly quick, she would have thought the aristocrat would've dragged it out. But it was possible the old woman was just too weak. And he thought Matilde was the killer.

Felicienne shook her head.

Stupid boys.

As he descended the stairs with a relieved smile on his face, he exhaled, "We did it, we survived!"

She hurried to him and wrapped her arms around him, "We did, we really did! I was so afraid for you, but I didn't know what to do…"

He held up a hand to stop her, "It's alright, we'll be fine now."

As they walked around, Felicienne gently lead Primo to the stair leading down to the foyer. She turned him to face her, back to the stairs as she looked up into his eyes.

"Thank you for protecting me," she murmured, smoothing her hands over his shoulders, brushing out some of the wrinkles he'd acquired from his earlier…scuffle.

"I didn't even have to think twice about it," he whispered.

Felicienne looked down as she said her next words:

"Perhaps you should have."

He looked adorably confused, his blue eyes gazing at her, searchingly. She placed her hands firmly on his shoulders, now.

"You never should have protected me."

And she pushed.

* * *

"Wonderful!" Ocheeva exclaimed, "You not only acted as an agent of death, but as an agent of grief and terror! You have more than earned your reward and bonus. Here, take it, and get some rest. Come back to me whenever you feel up to a new contract."

"Thank you, Ocheeva."

Felicienne pocketed her 300 gold and the talisman she'd heard referred to as 'Night Mother's Blessing**'. She'd already changed into her armour, and had carefully hidden her dress away. Things hadn't improved while she'd been away. Lucien was still here, and Antoinetta was still acting coolly towards her…perhaps even more so. Telaendril had told her Antoinetta was just jealous, but when she'd asked about what, the Bosmer just gave her a strange look.

Felicienne sighed, Antoinetta hadn't been angry when Felicienne became an Eliminator…in fact, she'd seemed extremely proud of her. It hadn't appeared to bother her that a girl younger than her, and with less experience had surpassed her in rank in such a short amount of time…but maybe Felicienne had read the older woman wrong.

She headed back out towards the living quarters to grab an apple, and maybe some mead. On her way, she ran into Antoinetta, but the woman just looked at her disinterestedly.

"Antoinetta! Why are you so angry with me!" Felicienne cried out, desperately. "What did I do?"

At first, the blonde looked angry, then that anger melted away to surprise as she continued to look at the younger girl's face; taking in her glassy eyes and the way she was nervously biting her lip.

Antoinetta sighed, she couldn't bring herself to keep staying angry and the girl; it was clear she didn't understand what was going on. She put a smile on her face, sure that it looked as forced as it felt.

"It's nothing, sister. Never mind. I've been all out of sorts this past week," she said as she patted Felicienne on the shoulder.

"Really? You aren't angry with me?" Felicienne asked, hopefully. At Antoinetta affirmation, the girl dropped her voice into a whisper and asked, "Is it feminine problems?"

Antoinetta let out a gasp of mock-outrage and pulled a strand of Felicienne's hair as the girl rushed off to grab some food, laughing the whole way.

As the girl reached the door to the living area, she felt the tell tale prickle at the base of her neck that someone was watching her. She turned around only to see their Speaker at the ladder that led into Cheydinhal gazing at her with his dark, unfathomable eyes. He smiled slightly at her, though it looked more like a smirk, and disappeared.

She thought two things at that moment, the first was that something significant had happened, she just wasn't sure what. And the second was;

'I really need to learn that spell.'

* * *

*For those of you interested, it means 'Auspicious Moon' in Latin. Also, I chose Faustus as a bit of a pun, I suppose. Dr. Faustus was the 'scientist' who sold his soul to Mephistopheles, the 'destroyer of good', for a chance to be young again. So I thought it fitting for Felicienne's alias. Don't ask me why (or you can, it's cool) I just did.

**I know Night Mother's Blessing is just a permanent increase in certain skills, but I wasn't sure how to convey that in a more 'realistic' setting with out it sounding…hokey.

**A/N:** Yes, a second A/N! Don't I ever shut up? As I said before, this is a bit of an interlude. I also wanted to clarify a few things: Antoinetta Marie isn't being cruel for cruelty's sake. I think it's well known she's in love with Lucien, but she senses his interest in, who she perceives as, the younger, prettier Felicienne. She's lashing out, she doesn't hate Felicienne, but she still has her faults. Insecurity being one of them. Felicienne isn't stupid, or purposely playing hard to get, she's just horribly naïve in certain things, some of those things being matters of the heart. Her feelings towards Lucien aren't revulsion; but living with a protective father and brother in the sort of setting I imagine this to be in, leave her ill-equipped to handle a man's (and since Lucien is a good deal older than her, a _man_ is what he is) advances. I'll just leave it at that she warms up to him a bit later.


End file.
